


Anniversary

by LadyofShalott



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2012-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 04:01:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyofShalott/pseuds/LadyofShalott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John, on the first wedding anniversary after Mary's death</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own these characters, no harm is intended, no profit is made. I'm just a fan. This story was written ages ago in response to a prompt that I no longer recall.

The first time John Winchester gives serious thought to selling his soul is the anniversary of his marriage to Mary -- the first anniversary after she was taken from him by the same fucking demon who placed a dark taint on his youngest son's soul. He and Jack and José are pretty sure that he'd be getting the better end of the deal if he were to sell his soul for Mary's return. It is broken, dented, mangled beyond all belief, and he would probably hurt less if it was gone. 

If it weren't for the boys, he'd have killed himself already. They are his only reason for living besides revenge. Earlier in the evening, while Dean and Sammy slept peacefully in one of the spare rooms upstairs at the roadhouse, John sat alone in the driver's seat of the Impala with the barrel of a pistol in his mouth. Truth be told, he kind of liked the taste of the oiled metal. It would have been so easy to just thumb off the safety and pull. And end it. Ellen could raise the boys a damn sight better than he could, anyway. Or Bobby. Dean would like that. He'd always loved Bobby. In the end, he couldn't do it because of the image of Dean looking more lost and alone that he already did burning across the backs of his eyelids. 

"Do I need to call Bobby to drive down here like a bat out of hell to keep you from doing something stupid?" Ellen asks, sitting on the bar stool beside him. He hadn't realized everyone else had left. 

"Nah, you scare me more than he does." John's laugh is bitter.

"You and me....we were both crazy for marrying into this shit, John." 

"I know."

"I remember the wedding," she says softly, smiling and resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You were so nervous you were about to pass out. Mary was so beautiful...and she had a silver-bladed knife and a vial of holy water strapped to her leg with her garter." Ellen's laugh doesn't do much to lighten John's spirits, but it helps a little.

"That sounds like Mary." 

"It's a dangerous life, John. Hunting, I mean. You couldn't have saved her. Demons are vicious and sneaky and they know how to hit you exactly where it's going to hurt the most. " She pours herself a shot of Jack and downs it before continuing. "Those boys need you, John. You're all they've got left, and Dean worships you. "

"My little boy is putting his faith in the wrong man."

"Yeah? I don't think so. Maybe you need to put a little more faith in yourself. I know you miss Mary, and it's probably never going to get any easier, but taking away the only parent those boys know isn't going to solve anything. "

John nods, conceding the point. "I should go check on the boys. Dean has nightmares, and I hate for him to wake up alone. He says he dreams about Hell. That he's there."

"Heavy dreams for a little boy."

"Good night, Ellen." John starts upstairs. "And thanks."

Ellen nods and salutes him with her refilled shot glass. "Good night."

John climbs the stairs and peeks into the room where Sam is peacefully sleeping in the crib Ellen had set up and Dean is curled up on one side of the bed, clinging to the pillow for all he's worth. He takes his boots off as quietly as he can and leaves them by the door, then lies down on the bed. When Dean becomes restless, John slips his arms around him and kisses the top of his head before burying his face against baby shampoo-scented hair and weeping out the bitterness that has built inside him since Mary's death. For the first time since he lost her, he sleeps without dreaming of her.


End file.
